Earlier today, while measuring my ark cubit by cubit, I was thinking about spring. There are lots of aspects to the season. Baseball, as usual, is toward the top. Love also, though I don't know that spring really has cornered the market on that. I've enjoyed snuggling down on a cold winter's night, summer romances, and fall... No, love pretty much sucks in the fall.
Anyway, spring brings with it a bucket load of change. But like most change, you don't really feel it until after the change has occurred. A couple weeks ago, it still felt wintry enough, with snow and chill and stomping of feet. But the tell-tale signs of spring were there if you looked.
For example, the sun has been still visible when I get out of work. This practically never happens during the winter. But just last week, some friends and I walked in sunlight to a relatively nearby pub for our first-ever post-work, pre-season softball team pep rally (basically, an excuse to get together for a couple pints with people who we'll be spending time with over the next few spring and summer months).
And St. Patrick's Day is nearly upon us, which is another sure sign of spring. St. Patrick's Day is that special day when a bunch of people decide to insult everyone of Irish heritage by claiming that since they've had five pints of Guinness they're actually Irish, despite the vowels and collection of Ys and Zs at that end their names. No, that just means you're drunk. And that's fine; I don't hold that against anyone. Most of the time.
As someone of Irish descent — who learned how American I am by going to school in Ireland for a semester of college — I find spring and St. Patrick's Day to be kinda special. Like I said earlier, it's a time of transition. I used to be a summer person. But at this point in my life, I like a good mudslide, a mild rainstorm (not like this windy crap that's tormenting me now), and a nice week off to try to relax.
For what it's worth, a portion of my relaxation will take place on Tuesday, when a buddy of mine and I head over to the Diamond Bar in Brooklyn to enjoy a night of mayhem with Zane Lamprey (which must be a madeup name), author of Three Sheets: Drinking Made Easy. So if anyone in the neighborhood feels like enjoying a little spring break adult style, feel free to join me. I'll be the guy with the leather trench coat and all-season beard.
What does that have to do with change? Well, I don't usually go out now that I'm the father of a pair of beautiful ankle biters. Especially without the wife. So this is a sign that the world is in transition. More certain than the destruction of the planet in 2012, I will be enjoying a pint on Tuesday night. Maybe even two. Can spring be far behind?
6 comments:
I like this one. It's both pensive and funny. Plus it's kind of fun to imagine the one real Irishman (or man of Irish descent at least) doing his St. Patrick's Day duty with the pints while surrounded by people with names that end in ys or vowels.
Thanks Caroline. I'll tell you, after the flood that befell my basement (following the posting of this item) I was feeling neither pensive nor funny. So I'm glad I went to Brooklyn and got those pints. I'm feeling better now.
Judging by the comments you leave on my blog, I'd say your capacity for humor hasn't suffered in the flood.
Thanks, Caroline. The whole "prunish" time after the water-logging has ebbed. I'm able to set sail again. ;-)
Glad to hear you've regained your plum status.
well put.
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